19. Who Died And Made You Preachers?
I slowly opened my eyes to find myself in Austin's room.
"Oh God," I groaned as I sat up. My head was throbbing.
I struggled and got myself off the bed. There were some clothes laid out on a chair. I figured he put them there for me. I picked them up and made my way to the bathroom.
"I look like crap," I said to myself when I looked in the mirror.
My mouth tasted like vomit, my hair was in a mess and my make up made me look like a freaking zombie. I took the tootbrush I kept at his place and brushed about three times. Then I stepped into the shower to take a short, warm one. Wrapping my towel around myself I got out and put on the black tank top and black and white sweats. After putting my damp hair in a messy bun I went downstairs, my head still aching.
"Austin?" I said entering the living room. He was in a red shirt and khaki shorts.
"Hey," he said. "You're up."
"What's he doing here?" I asked when my eyes landed on Shawn, who was comfortably resting on the couch.
He chuckled. "Well nice to see you too Princess."
"Sorry," I quickly said. "I didn't mean it like that."
"I get it," he said. "You're cranky when you wake up."
I smiled and rolled my eyes.
"What time is it anyways?" I asked.
"Two."
My eyes widened. "Two?!" I exclaimed. "I slept the whole freaking day?"
"Yup," he said, his eyes fixed on his phone.
"How are you feeling?" Austin asked.
"Horrible," I muttered.
"Follow me," he said. "You probably have a headache. You're gonna need something for that."
He led the way and I followed him into the kitchen, a laughing Shawn behind me.
"My head feels like it's been hit with a brick, a sledge hammer and then run over by a monster truck," I complained sitting down in front of the counter.
"It's called a hangover Michaels," Shawn teased as Austin pulled out some asprin from one of the cabinets.
"Hangovers are the worst," I complained putting my head down. "I'm never drinking again."
"That's what they all say," Austin joked.
"I envy your inability to get drunk," I told him annoyingly.
"I know," he said as I gulped down the medicine.
"Seriously?" Shawn asked. "You can't get drunk?"
"Well technically I can. It just takes a while," Austin explained.
"Awesome," Shawn said.
"Can you hand me another bottle of water from the fridge?" I asked Shawn.
"No."
I rolled my eyes. "Why are you even here?"
"Oh I'm sorry, would you rather prefer Chris Hemsworth?" he teased as he handed me a bottle.
I blushed as he and Austin broke out into laughter. "I did not call you that!"
"You also went on about how we were getting married," Shawn added.
I threw my head back in laughter at that one. "That I do not remember," I told them.
"What do you remember?" Austin asked sitting down when the laughter died down.
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Tutoring Mr. Bad Boy
Teen FictionMeet Khalan Michaels, the seventeen year old straight A, reserved girl who loves music. Shawn Mitchell, the school's bad boy who loves to skip classes and doesn't give a damn about anything. What happens when she's practically forced to tutor the gu...